The Queen of Hearts
by ms.j
Summary: Hah! I did it! So let it be said that the Ms. J is done. Thanks all for the love. Plot: Max is helping Terry keep the peace in his love life. But her own takes on a weirder turn. Prequel to Red Queen.
1. Annoying Author's Note

**Queen of Hearts by Ms. J **

Max is helping Terry keep the peace in his love life. But her own takes on a weirder turn.

* * *

Updated 3.16.2007:

The Author's Note: aka Why I Can't Write For Beans

I really didn't do much to the story, just fix my grammar mistakes and contunity bloopers. I am grateful for all my readers and well-wishers. Be blessed and Jesus saves.

Ms. J

2007.


	2. The Doctor is In

Chapter I: _The Doctor is In_

The doll safely tucked away in her shopping bag made her afternoon more pleasant.

The 5'8, bronze-skinned teenager with lemon-pink colored hair strolled through the barrage of stores during the shopping frenzy for Valentine's Day. On this fine Saturday afternoon she noted that the fated commercial holiday would come in two weeks.

A kiosk decorated in frilly whites and pinks caught her eye. The sale girls matched the colors of the booth as pictures of perfume bottles lined its shelves in their own frilly, girlish colors.

"WTIL's own Angel Proctor aka the Luv Doctor presents: Luv Doctor's No. 9."

Music could be heard playing:

"Angel Proctor/Luv Doctor/She'll give you the advice/Healing broken hearts is her art/So take a part and listen to your heart/The Doctor is innnnnn today/For youuuuu . . . ."

A camera crew was trained on the perfume's designer.

"Hello, this is Angel Proctor, the Luv Doctor and I'll been hear to listen to you!"

She gave a Miss America smile to the cameras.

"And remember to buy my new line of perfume: Luv Doctor's No. 9, the only cure for lonely nights. 19.99 only and you can even get a handy limited edition signed by yours truly!"

_'I like pink but that's a bit too much.'_ Max thought when someone popped up in front of her face and shot something into her face.

"Try this new perfume!"

Poison.

That's was the only word that came to mind when the girl inhaled the oppressing aroma.

Cheap perfume.

Really strong, cheaply made perfume.

Her eyes watered and burned. Several seconds passed before Max could recover to give an answer of any type.

She gagged, the scent nearly strangulating her.

"Like it?" The salesgirl inquired.

"Yuck!" She cried. "What-what in the world is that!?!"

"The new line of perfume, Luv Doctor No. 9! The only cure for lonely nights-"

"I'll rather be alone than breath in those deadly chemicals and die young." Max cut her sale pitch off once she could breath.

What was killing her more she asked: The vapor of the perfume or the cheerleader voice of its airhead salesgirl?

_'Only thing keep her from floating away is that big hair . . . .'_

"Well." The designer huffed, hands on her hips. "I never!"

"And you never will."

The pink-haired girl walked off with another victim 'verbally assassinated.'

"This is the last time I go to the mall." Max told herself.


	3. The Second Sex

Chapter II: _The Second Sex_

"What is that?" Maxine suddenly asked, peeking her head from the locket.

"That?" Dana raised a dainty brow.

"That smell . . ." Max started to check the bottom of her shoes.

"You noticed!" Blade exclaimed joyfully, joining the two girls at their lockers with Chelsea following behind her.

"Me and the whole world honey," Max twisted up her nose, "What are you wearing?"

"Perfume-Luv Doctor No. 9. The only cure for lonely nights!" Blade announced proudly, "Like it?"

"Do you want the truth or a well thought-up lie?" The black girl folded her arms.

"Max!" Chelsea exclaimed her surprise at the black girl's jadedness, "What's wrong with you today?"

"I was attacked by the perfume counter at the mall with that stench."

"Sorry to hear that." Chelsea shrugged, not sure what to say.

"I still like it. It's already curing my lonely nights." Blade said, winking at some passing jocks but the desired effect did not come.

"And wearing that scent will guarantee you all the lonely nights you ever wanted." Max stated with her all-knowing smile, shutting her locker.

Dana suppressed a laugh. Blade's mouth clamped shut with angry and Chelsea blushed deep as their pink-haired friend disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

"Dana IM me during 20th Century History, you seem to have cut Blade down about some body spray or something." 

'Never one to doubt Dana when spending gossip.'

"I slept badly. I took it out on Blade because she was wearing this awful perfume being promoted by an equally awful woman. I was nearly choked to death by it when some counter girl shot it in my face at the mall the other day. Better she told you than the extravagant version given by the freshmen."

"Mall huh. . . . Slag it!"

Terry dropped his folk into the mash potatoes, followed by a string of curse words.

"What's wrong?"

"Dana!" He smacked his forehead, "I forget to get her a Valentine's Day gift."

"Oh." She dismissed it with her free hand.

"Oh? Oh!" Terry blew up at her indifference.

"Yeah, just for you but she's going to skin me alive!"

Half of lunch room looked over at the two before turning back to their own conversations.

"Keep it down!" She hissed, then spoke in her calmed tone. "Just drop by my house and pick up her present-the one you already knew to get for her and the one I was just so happening to wrap all pretty. Remember that it's antique China doll you two were looking at in the store window a month ago and you bought it because she's your Asian princess. And the white roses because she hates red since everyone else will have red."

Terry felt his jaw touch the lunch table. "You did that?"

"Yep."

"For me?"

"Why not?"

"Knew I forget?" He asked sheepishly.

"You were fighting Jokerz and handling a jewel heist, it was the least I could do."

His eyebrow arced. "Got a vid-card?"

"Only Hallmark's finest."

"You just saved my life." His hand rested over his heart, a long-held breath release.

She gave him a cattish smile. "Good." She delicately ate her 'mystery meat.'

"Now you can save me by buying me a ticket for a cruise Spring Break."

"What!"

"Wayne pays you good money. You owe me some creds. For now I'll take two hundred."

"Come on Max, two hundred . . . ."

"Price of the doll and the flowers. I had to dip into my Spring Break Getaway Fund."

She studied her nails in the sunlight.

"Or I can just tell Dana it's her early birthday gift from me leaving you to find her something since the stores will be crazy with men who also forgot gifts-"

"Shag it."

Terry reached for his wallet and forked the last of his cash over. So long leather jacket . . . .

"Oh, and I need something to wear as I enjoy the beach in St John."

"Max-" He growled, glaring in Mr. Wayne's trademark style. The remaining fifty credits fell into her hands.

"Schway." Max smiled, counting the credits, "Very schway."

The bell rung, signaling their return to classes. Max to her Advanced Biology, Terry to English. The Dark Knight watched his friend stroll off content as a cat with all of his money.

"Some days, I would prefer the criminals." He admitted to the air around him.

* * *

"Well, I got conned out of two hundred and fifty by my own best friend." 

"That's nice." Bruce Wayne stared his computer, the massive commanding post that filled half of the cave, half listening to the teen's rant.

"Love you to, Mr. Wayne."

"You forget something again?"

"Max took the liberty of buying my gift for Dana to save me some face tomorrow night."

Terry grabbed his suit and threw his shirt off.

"If I would have forget it was Valentine's Day, she would kill me. If I forgot to get a gift, she would do worse."

"Sorry to hear that."

"How did you survive the women, Mr. Wayne? I mean, being Batman and all . . . ."

"Terry, a man never truly survives women. You walk around on eggshells and pray."

"That's your life changing advice to me, Mr. Wayne? Walk on eggshells and pray?"

"Man was not meant to know the ways of the female sex."

"Wow." A mixture of shock and surprise wrote on his face: Male bonding. Terry held off most of the emotion by covering up his face with the cowl. "I think we really agree of something."

A comfortable silence fell between the former Bat and his prodigy, the new Bat prepped for the night of crime. Before his protégé took off into the night, Bruce called after him:

"Take the Black Card too." He held it out. "If you're late, she better be in the nicest place in town to wait on you."

"Whoa." The boy gave a gracious smile, gingerly taking the card. "Thanks."

"And make sure she has one of the nicer limo too, it'll distract her from being too upset at your tardiness for a time."

Bruce Wayne suddenly felt his being held in a tight embrace.

"I love you man."

Bruce's seethed expression told him that the former Bat was in no mood for humor.

"Just go McGinnis."

* * *

"So, what's on?" Terry McGinnis asked his friend after the nine of clock hour. 

"A rerun of _The Luv Doctor_."

"You watch that?"

"Not anymore." Her fingers found the remote control's "off" button.

An hour had passed since Batman dropped in from his nightly patrol. The quiet streets gave him a chance to sneak off to Max's apartment for a cool down.

"Still peeved about what happened?" Batman asked his friend about last week's "attack."

"They were tying too hard to be liked. Too . . . bouncy . . . perky . . ."

On the show, the Luv Doctor was giving advice to yet another lovesick teenager whose girlfriend was currently cheating on him.

"Ugh, does she have to have one of those annoyingly catchy on-air names?" Max called from the kitchen wearing her cartoon PJs. "Want anything?"

"A sandwich will do." The Dark Knight answered, nonchalantly sitting on living room floor, his cowl next to him watching vid-tv in his suit. They really didn't need a lot of words between them. Friendship uncomplicated life for them, each knew the other well enough to pick up on a hand gesture, the crook of a back, a shift of the eyes. The presence of each other's company without much conversation suited them just fine.

'Like we do this every day.' She thought.

The pink-haired girl though, busying herself with dinner as the raven-haired youth lounged in "business attire." The cat Isis washing its dainty paws.

"She seemed to be giving good advice."

"Maybe you should call the Doctor for a little advice about Dana." A smirk danced on her face. She missed the frown growing there as her back was turned.

"Maybe I will choose to ignore that comment."


	4. Just Out of Curiosity

Chapter III: _Just Out of Curiosity_

"Why no boyfriend, Max? Seriously."

Paused. The opening of cabinets ceased, knife in mid-air, the sandwiches half made. Terry's unexpected question jarred the serenity of the Friday night.

"Are we having this conversation?" Max finally said, hands on hips.

"I'm your friend." He stood up to stretch his tired body watching her in the kitchen.

"A male friend."

"So?"

_'Where is this going?'_

"So I can't just talk to you like I would a girl. This is girl talk."

"Course you can. Hey, I can even put on a dress and some makeup."

"Terry!"

"Hey, if I'm comfortable enough with my manhood to wear tights, then you can handle me in a cocktail dress."

For a moment, she toyed with the vision of him in a little black dress . . . and quickly shook her head of the scary visual. "Thanks, Bats, now I can have more nightmares."

Lettuce. Tomato. Turkey. The list busied itself in her head, not the sudden cross-examination from the cirme fighter.

"Still didn't answer my question." Terry pressed.

"You're not going to stop." Now Terry wanted pick her brain when it wasn't school-related? Max huffed inwardly.

"I just want to know why my friend isn't being a normal teenager."

"I am normal-more normal than someone who spends his nights dropping masked nut cases as an after school job." She was met with a dirty look from the Bat.

"Besides, guys don't appeal to me."

"Did I miss something-?" Terry ventured to ask but the chef's blade looked very ominous in her capable fingers.

"I'm still into guys if that's what you're asking." She sighed, "How to put this into words? Here: Guys are complicated. I'm complicated. Therefore we don't mix."

"Guys, complicated? Aren't you the one who says we're don't grow up but get taller, primitive cavemen and all that jazz." He gave a bad impression of a caveman, beating on his chest:

"Food. Sleep. Girls, girls. Ugh-ga, ugh-ga."

"You're a guy. You should know that most guys just want one thing."

"To understand women?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, sex."

Mock shock was written across his face. "Max, I'm hurt. My intention with every girl I've been with has been honorable. "

"When you met her father at the front door. After that-" Max walked to the fridge to grab a pitcher of lemonade.

"Hah-hah."

"Besides, this conversation about my nonexistent love life is over . . ."

"You're just too picky." He teased. For whatever twisted reason, he wanted to see if he could make a this dark-skinned female blush.

"Picky! Ha!" She laughed his words off, opening the fridge.

"Give a guy a chance. There's plenty of nice guys in Hamilton High's dating pool."

"Hamilton High could use a little more chlorine. Need I remind that half of Gotham's criminal population attended our school." She poured herself a glass of lemonade.

"So we had some bad apples."

"The whole slagging tree is rotten!"

"You just don't want to admit your standards are too high."

Terry followed her into the kitchen. Leaning on the counter, his stare burned into her until she stopped spreading mayo on the bread.

"Yes, Mr. McGinnis?"

One simple question: "Exactly what is it that Maxine Gibson want?"

He did it again!

Trapped her in his eyes, those eyes that persisted within her inmost thoughts.

She was lost in a sea of blue, a sea of meaning, a sea of dreams.

Sometimes torment laid there.

Sometimes love.

Sometimes nothing.

She felt the answer being drawn from her lips, half-parted-how long did half a second occur?

Long enough to hear a ringing cell go off.

_Maybe now is a good time to believe in God. Thank you, Almighty._

"Hello . . . yeah . . . I'm at Max's . . . Now? But I was going to eat . . . Yes. I will tell my mother I had overtime . . . No, she hates steakhouses . . . Fine, but this means using the card and a private jet. . . Hey, you want me to stop the robbery or not? Okay, okay, we'll talk. Cya."

"I have to-" Terry sounded sheeplish but she finished his words.

"Go." Max waved good-bye. "Good night. Isis will enjoy your half of the sandwich."

"I still want to know." The Dark Knight warned, grabbing his half-finished sandwich from the sleeping calico cat on the floor.

"Mmmhmm."

"I mean it." He said between two large bits.

"Good-bye, Batman."

He gave her wink then grabbed his suit and jumped out of the window.

The curtains waved in the breeze, he was off again. Batman was once more apart of the night.

"If you only knew what I wanted was just sitting here." She whispered to herself.


	5. Clown Have Feelings Too

Chapter IV: _Clowns Have Feelings Too_

Stretched out on her couch, Max spent the rest of the night hacking into Bruce Wayne's computer (for fun of course) while her Organic Chem book laid next to the side. She studied a bit then hacked a bit while listneing to the oldies station."Come Over" by a girl named Aaliyah played on her laptop. Sweet sounds of classical R&B filled the room until the phone rung a quarter to midnight.

She grabbed the headphones. She didn't bother to turn the vid-phone on, not waiting to be seen in her jammies.

"Hello?"

Chelsea was on the other line. "Tell me you're going to the Valentine Hearts Party."

"What is this? Harass Max Week?"

"Come on girl, you know you want to go."

"I'm not going."

"Go stag."

"I'll rather not be forced to watch make-up sessions." Max continued typing.

"Come on, I'm going stag."

"Then you're going to ditch me for some kid on the wrestling team."

"I will not!"

"You disappeared for two hours at the Winter Fling. I had to listen to your date's friend. Not scwhay." She studied her nails listening to her friend defend her romantic flings.

"Honey, besides. . ."

**Thump.** Her ears perked to the noises in the silent house.

"He wasn't all that cute and . . . . Max?"

Thump.

No sound came from the pink-haired's end. Chelsea called her, "Max? Hellooooo, Max?"

**Thump.**

The sound caught her attention again. Like someone was in the house with her. . . .

"Max, are you listening to me?"

"Chelsea sweetie, I have to run now. I think I heard the cat knock down something."

Her finger clicked the phone off before she could hear protest as she walked toward the sound.

_'Terry. It has to be Terry.'_

She called out his name. "Terry?"

Her parents were still AWOL, and her sister wouldn't be home from school until Spring Break. Her sister decided to go back to school in Metropolis, still sending money to provide for the household expenses while Max finished her senior out there in Gotham.Max was used to being the only other living creature in the house other than the cat.

Another thump followed, a lounder one. The front door sounded like it opened and closed.

"Terry-wait?" Max corrected herself. "Wait. Terry doesn't break in. Terry usually calls first."

Her fingers fell on the first thing that could be used as a weapon and she kicked her bedroom door opened.

* * *

Her heart stopped. 

A former Joker was sitting on her couch with flowers.

To an outside, the calm scene of a guy lounging on a girl's couch after midnight wouldn't raise eyebrows. To an acute observer, Maxine Gibson clutching her broom to her chest as Carter Wilson aka Terminal sat on her couch casually would raise many.

He sat there in brown dress slacks and a white shirt. A bouquet of a dozen black and red roses sat on the table next to a tiny brown teddy bear sporting a blue bow. Grinning.

At her.

Hands behind his head in expectation, he spoke sweetly to Max.

"My lovely Max, you're home."

He watched the girl swing the broom in warning at him, voice trembling.

"What are you doing here? And why shouldn't I have a good reason to call the cops?"

Carter slicked back his hair and stood up. He started walking toward her, his open button shirt flashing peaks of the wifebeater underneath.

"I know we started off on a bad foot."

"You tried to kill me." She hissed, swinging the broom again . . . only to watch it land next to the couch.

"That's all in the past my love." He dismissed with a wave.

"It was six months ago!"

"Why don't we start fresh," He tried to take her by the arm. "Start over anew again."

"With you trying to give me a new grave. Yeah right, Wilson." She pulled back from him.

"You're funny, beautiful, and witty." He leaned in closer, she stepped back. "What a woman!"

"This is some bad dream, I'm going to wake up and realize I feel asleep eating Rocky Road and watching scary movies. " Max kept stepping backwards, bumping into various chairs and shelves around the living room. Carter was following her around, a funny gloss in his eyes.

"Why not a lovely dream where can sail off together, away from the world-"

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're crazy!"

"Crazy about you."

"That make-up must have seeped into your brain."

The hurt flashed briefly in his eyes after she snatched them away as if he were diseased. Then confusion. Genuine confusion.

"Your words are daggers to in heart." Suddenly he crossed the room and took her up into his arms, holding her by the waist, noses nearly touching.

"Listen to me."

Wiggling free was out of the options, his muscles were only twice the size as hers.

"I need you, Maxine."

Thoughts have a funny way of forming in one's head when presented with extreme fear.

_'If he wasn't a dreg Joker who tried to take me out, this scene actually would have been touching.'_

She shook her head. What's wrong with me? 'Didn't he point a gun at me once?!?'

"I can't eat. I can't sleep. Your face keeps haunting me. I can't let you go, let you run away and leave me a broken man." Was she hearing desperation in his tone?

She was too shock to respond. His gripped tighten, forcing their eyes to meet.

"I need you like a dying man needs water . . ."

Eyes wide as saucers, her eyes took in the view of his lips brushing hers.

Softly. His eyes closed, his heavy breath tickling her neck . . . .


	6. Late Night Calls

Chapter V: _Late Night Calls_

Before Max could feel anymore of his tongue snaking around in her mouth, the vase connected with Carter's head.

* * *

When one AM came, Terry was getting off his bike, ready to drag himself in the house. The cell phone once again cut through his thoughts. 

"Talk to me."

Ten seconds of dead air perked his attention. "Hello?"

Someone was breathing, the person sounded out of breath. "Hello?"

Someone swallowed. His raw nerves flared. "Look whoever this is better answer me right-!"

"He's there." A feminine voice answered, the nerves sounded rattled, "He's still there."

Concern washed his anger away.

"Max?" It couldn't be. He kept calling her name into the phone, tone demanding.

"Max! Max! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She was unable to answer.

"Y-y-yeah."

"What's going on? Are you hurt? Did somebody rob you? Whose still where?"

"I had to run." She huffed out, breathless.

"Talk to me, Max, I can't help you if you can't explain-" Terry spoke slowly in a gentle tone.

The words managed to come out from her trembling voice:

"Apartment . . . . Terminal . . . after me . . ."

* * *

After peeling out on his bike to Max's, he placed a call into the cops. He managed to locate her hiding in an alley way across the street behind a dumpster. The cops showed up minutes later, Max thought it best to cooperate. Terry's watch flashed three am once a report was written, evidence was taken, and they released Max from questioning.

"He didn't do anything else once the cops walked in before I did. Just a little dazed from the blow you gave him. The cops picked him up. They let me lock up everything, straighten up a bit, feed Isis."

She stood there holding her in the chilly air, rehashing what happended before she called.

"I can't figure it out. He breaks in but doesn't try to kill me?" Max let her shiver escape. "It was like he was there to do something else . . . ."

How could she tell him that? That Carter Wilson came on to her in her apartment and could done anything to her!

But most of all, how could she explain that kiss?

"Yeah?" Suspicion danced in his blue orbs. She lowered her voice again with a twinge of guilt.

"Terry, he tried to-"

Now he fixed his gaze on her fulling. "He what?"

Whatever torture he was imagining to inflict on the once Joker, she heard herself think, she hoped it wouldn't come to pass. Not even to him.

His blue eyes seethed behind the lashes. She felt Terry take her by the arms, leading her away from the action.

"Did he hurt? Did he touch you? Come on Max, tell me."

The way his voice dropped low and murderous scared her just as much as Carter's actions.

"Max, do yo need to tell the cops-" (She could hear the "and me" in his tone) "-something?"

"No, no!" She cut him off in a hurried tone, she left the part about the tonue out but spoke about Carter's sudden "affection" toward her.

"He was coming on to you!?!" He forced himself to hiss at the shock of this statement.

"I hit him after that. I was scared. How was I suppose to act?"

"Max, if he would have gotten any father . . . ." Terry let the words trail off.

If Carter had gotten any farther . . . If she couldn't make that call . . . .

_'No,'_ He shook his head._ 'Don't think of that. Not now.'_

"Terry, I swear, that's it! Nothing else happended."

His eyes went far off into the night, his darkest thoughts darkening him for a moment.

Worry. Concern. Fear. All those things swirled around his head, he couldn't picture her hurt. _'She's okay. Stop freaking out.' _Terry had to keep repeating to himself. He still was in disbelief.

"You're lucky that it was the only thing he did." He finally spoke.

"I'm glad I didn't have to find that out." She stopped him from dwelling on it anymore.

Uncomfortable silence fell between them for a moment.

"I think we should talk to Wayne."

"What?" She fought the need to scream but forced it into a hushed whisper, "Why?"

"Because Carter Wilson doesn't try to kill you one day then try to kiss you the next without something else being seriously wrong."


	7. The Trouble With Women

Chapter IV: _The Trouble with Women_

After much begging and pleading with Terry to delay taking her straight to Wayne's manor, Terry allowed himself to be convinced to let her stay at his apartment for the night.

"So you don't want help? Oh, well then the next time a crazed Joker comes 'looking for a good time,' I'll just let him do whatever he wants to do because hey-I'm your friend. Nevermind the fact that only God knows what could have happened to you."

"That's not what I'm saying!" She felt her fist tighten, _'Boy, I will make your jaw swell_.'

The darker girl huffed, the black circles around her eyes now visible, she let herself go slack.

"I'm just . . . tired. I don't want to think about it. At least not tonight."

"Then when are you going to think about-?" Her paler friend kept pushing.

_'Why are you so worried?'_ Max thought then spoke to him, "Terry, it's almost four am in the morning and school starts at seven. We both need to survive school tomorrow."

She hated hearing his lecture to her about being safe, especially at this hour. "Just walk with me upstairs to grab something and we'll be off."

He swallowed the protest. Well, she would be out of harm's way for the moment he reasoned.

Plus, Wayne probably was sleeping himself . . . . _'When does Wayne sleep?'_ The words randomly came to Terry but he refocused his thoughts on the current situation. _'Women. Can't live with them-'_

"Alright. But I mean it, Tuesday evening-you, me, and Wayne." He told Max pointedly.

She threw her hands up in a surrender gesture, "Whatever you say."

* * *

"Terry, it's six am, get up, you have to go to school! It's Monday!"

Mary McGinnis began her day early cleaning house. Since she had a day off from work, she decided to take care of the housekeeping early so she could get rid of the boys, soak in her bathtub with rose candles, and drown herself in a "bodice ripper" romance novel.

"Honey, wake up!"

Sure, the mother of two loved her children and wanted them to be with her every waking moment but every now and then, she needed "me" time. _'I wonder where my facial cream is.'_

"I know it's hard to get up, but time to go! Get it over with! Plus, you have work tonight."

The door slowly cracked openly and a head of wild pink hair peeked out of the door.

"Maxxxxxine." Mary suddenly let the laundry basket drop from her hands.

Two brown eyes blinked at her, "Mrs. McGinnis?"

"What are you doing in Terry's room?"

"I slept here."

"Really?" Her hands fell on her hips.

"Yeah, his bed's really comfy."

The older woman held on to the door for balance.

"And you slept in his one of his shirts . . . ?"

The girl looked down, as if she finally noticing she was covered in a old baggy sports jersey.

"Oh, yeah, I took a shower last night. Terry said it would be okay by you."

She felt her blood come to a slow broil.

"TERRY!"

When the Dark Knight finally came to the land of the living, he found himself face to face with the insuring angry of his mother and the annoyed look of the girl who was like a sister.

He knew he was in more danger in this moment then with Inque or Blight.

"I didn't do it!"

He threw his hands up. That only further the shifting of the hips and crossing of arms.

_'I'm so dead.'_ Their eyes were slicing him through and through.

"Good morning everyone!" He emitted nervous laughter.

"Terry, your mom didn't know I was here?" Max asked, never wanting to be imposing.

"Terry, I didn't know she was suppose to be here?" Mary wanted a good explanation.

"Umm." _'Oh no.'_ "I can explain!"

"Go on." Mary told her son, _'Amuse me.'_ Those icy blue eyes of his mother fastened him to the wall. She expected a usually outlandish tale he would tell to bail himself out of trouble.

"Mom, I didn't want to wake you up, I know you had a hard day plus something happened at Max's . . . ." Terry proceeded to relate last nights event to his mother.

The teen watched her face go from the furious to a soften concern for the girl.

Max vouched that the story was true then added, "He slept on the floor and gave me the bed." She answered quickly as though her virtue was being tested in his mother's eyes. The last thing she wanted was the coolest almost mom to her thinking they were fooling around.

"I didn't want to stay there, Mrs. McGinnis, at least not last night."

"Well, I'm glad to see your okay!" She hugged Max tightly to her, "I couldn't bear to think of having to call your parents when they're away and bearing such bad news."

She pulled the girl away from the room and spoke loving motherly things to her, "I guess you should run on home and grabbed something for school. I'll drive you. Sure you don't need a day off? Just to gather your thoughts?"

"I'll be fine and I bought enough clothes. Just need to be more careful when I go home tonight." Max waved a dismissive hand.

"Nonsense!" She dismissed Max's words, "You can stay here for as long as you feel. Besides, Matty can use the company. Terry will gladly give up his room-"

Protest on the lone male's part would be futile. Terry swallowed his words.

Max felt relief, "Guess I'll change then."

When Max disappeared into the wasteland of Terry's room, his mother fixed him with a deadly stare. "You and I will talk later this evening." Then she disappeared with the laundry again.

_'Slag it!' _He knew they needed to talk to Wayne but that expression from his dear old mum told him better.

* * *

"So we're still on for this Saturday?"

From his quick glance at the really dirt-old play "Othello" to catch up on his class readings, the bell-like voice rung clear into Terry's thoughts.

"Huh?"

In English class, Terry found himself looking up in his girlfriend, the Asian-American beauty with a tiny painted smile and demure dark eyes so brown they were black.

She leaned over his desk, her face illustrating his view. The halo of raven hair framing her face, capturing his attention.

"Saturday night, as in the Valentine's Day dinner we suppose to go to the end of this week."

Emphasis on 'suppose' meant missing it would already add more fuel to the relationship fire that still burned from his days as Batman, missed dates, and lack of quality time.

"Yeah-yeah!"

To save the burning building of his relationship, Terry (with outside help of course) managed to get booked at a new posh downtown restaurant recommended by his boss, Hanging Gardens of Gotham.

("People don't go to eat, they go there to be seen." Bruce Wayne related to his employee, the idea of Dana meeting some famous boy band member of some pop group he never knew would earn her enough bragging rights that would make up for a thousand dates broken off.)

A beautiful stretch limo, a VIP room in the Gardens with a private jazz band, and exclusive use of the yacht to see the stars on the water to cap off the romantic evening . Add the gifts and him just being there for the whole night gave him the potential to score major brownie points.

He took her hands to be more convincing, "Sweetheart, of course we're going."

"And you're sure you have the night off? Or does Wayne need company that night?"

_'Ouch.'_ He winched inwardly. "No, Wayne gave me the night off."

Crime doesn't go on dates. But Wayne told him not to worry, if he needed him that badly, he want until after they've spent at least an hour on the yacht. And he promised to work the local police force more than he did the Bat that night to give him the time needed to repair his every fault. ("Yes, I won't bug you unless something REALLY serious happens.")

"I WILL see you at seven Saturday night. I'm even cutting the phone off."

"Wow, this must mean something." She rolled her dark eyes.

He kissed her on cheek, tone low and sultry. "You just make sure to wear what I sent you."

Dana eyed him, "This isn't some skimpy bikini or something that I'll never wear is it?"

"Come on, Dane!" He laughed loudly, "I respect you more than that."

"Oh." Then she added with a sugar sweet smile, "What a shame . . . ."

Her boyfriend could only sit there dumbfounded as he watched her hips walk away.

* * *

The rest of the week passed quietly for Max at least. Terry McGinnis spent three enjoyable nights on the living room couch after the "talk" he and his mother had-more like the talking to she gave him: 'Maxine is a lovely girl, but next time, please inform me when one of your female friends needs to sleep here especially after midnight. And if they need to use the shower.'

It didn't bother him that Max, his childhood friend, used the bathroom at all.

She took a shower-so what? Not that he was looking or anything, thinking about her in that way. They were buddies, partners in crime, she was . . . pretty. Not his type.

Terry buried his head into his pillow, the steady wave of bank robberies and Ts kept his mind off the issue. _'Stop it, McGinnis, you have a hot girlfriend.'_

True, Dana Tan made him the envy of all Hamilton High men. She was a sweet girl, different from the frivolous girly-girls like Blade. Things had been a struggle lately, he neglected so much in the relationship lately. But if could be fixed. That was the function of Saturday night.

But now in the deep night, the issue came back.

Why did his friend look good in nothing but cartoon PJs?


	8. The Number One Ace

Chapter VII: _The Number One Ace_

Jack scanned the room. Many prospects but no real winners.

The former Royal Flush member had been clean of the criminal life for a year, lived with his little sister in a luxurious downtown condo, and managed to scheme a cushion job for the biggest finance company in all of Gotham. He cut his hair to a shorter yet more up-to-date style, keep the goatee, and decided that pricey Italian suits would be apart of his daily dress code.

Jack even made himself calm some of his ego, but the love for money and the confidence were still his. His aristocratic grace wasn't gone and it allowed his new urbane style to blend nicely into a personality that charmed the pants off everyone.

This worked well with the female persuasion.

Melanie wanted no part of his new life, he allowed her to settle into life as a "normal" teenager as they lived off his new income and some of their "trust funds" slashed away in case of rainy day (like the possible day their parents were freed from prison). Mel was at some party tonight with some young guy trying to be seventeen, the guy was thoroughly warned to keep his hands to himself or he would lose them.

(Jack never forgave the guy she bemoaned a year back for breaking her heart. He did love his sister, she was the only person he had in the world even if they fought like cats and dogs.)

Women were numerous as dollars here tonight but he was seeking a jewel, a queen of hearts.

"Drink sir?" A waitress with pink lipstick asked him, the only bright spot admit the solemn uniform.

"Why, yes." He selected a glass of champagne, "Thank you."

"Drink up." She gave him a flirt's grin and walked off.

He watched her disappear into the crowd, taking slow slips. "You look drinkable. . . .' The thought kicked around in his mind until . . .until . . . until a black dress caught his eye.

_'But she'll quench my thirst nicely_.'

* * *

Ditched again. After one hour, they managed to do the same thing again.

Even Hanging Gardens' exquisite but expensive scenery could distract her from her anger.

Dupe. The only word Max felt like. Blade suddenly felt like the weekend high school parties were kiddie pony rides party compared to the chic dinner party her parents were taking her to so she could mingle.

(Actually, she just wanted to get a rise out of Nelson Nash.)

Blade could bring along friends so she choose Chelsea and (after much convincing) Maxine. So after (much more) convincing and an added element of bribery, their dark-skinned friend decided to get dressy for one night. If anyone knew she was going to be wearing a dress even a retro one, no deal she told the two. So they painted her up some (after much, much more convincing) and got her into a pair of low heels for the party.

Now she was alone in a room full of rich folks she would never know by the drink table, looking very much alone.

_'If I'm still standing here by nine, I'm leaving.'_

"Excuse me, Miss?"

"Yes?" Max turned around. Her halter-style, black floor-length gown turning with her.

The teenager found herself faced with a older gentleman: Slate Italian suit, polished black gators, short neat hair, a fine goatee. A large expensive watch graced his wrist, good teeth.

"I'm sorry, this may sound tacky-"

"As it will-" She said bluntly, "but continued."

He continued with cation. "Your beauty drew me to you and I must simply have this dance. I can't imagine a prettier creature whose arm I want to grace so badly."

Max thought about it. Since her friends were playing "catch the cute rich boy," she figured why not? No one else cared that she was there, they were all having low conversation about money and high society things.

Besides, under that silk shirt, she saw that guy was RIPPED. She extended a hand:

"Love to."

* * *

"Terry, I can't believe you got me in here!"

"Hey, when you have connections."

Hanging Gardens promised to be the overly chic, lavish restaurant he expected.

Trimmed in greens, golds, and black the place had a garden motif with large flora hanging in front all the windows, strained glass windows with art beyond this world or wallet. A live band playing soft classical or jazz music for rich taste. Imported oak tables, china, crystal glasses, soft candles on the center of the tables. Gold silverware. White lilies and lotus flowers floating in the manufactured ponds with imported goldfish from China. A fountain in the center of the whole place. The first level held the larger parties and bars, the second for those eating, the third for the truly exclusive where the balconies were for those who wished to see the city dwarfed under their money.

The happy couple were on the third floor at a private table, the private five-piece jazz band playing light tunes for eating. One waiter and waitress were appointed to them serviced their every need. They had a simple meal of seafood, bread, salad and pasta that was given a pricey name on the menu. A bottle of sparkling grape juice chilled on ice for them.

(Wayne promised to kill him if he got toasted.)

"I love the dress. Thank you so much."

The pastel blue evening dress he remembered her looking one day in the mall went well with the silver jewlery she wore. It bought out her eyes nicely, made her legs look even better, and went well with her swept up hair.

(His mother promised to do worse if he got her pregnant.)

"It was nothing." Like any male being praised by a woman, he milked it for all it was worth.

"Can you believe how nice this place is?" Dana pot a shrimp in her mouth.

He nodded at her, holding her hand. "Only the best."

"Can you also believe we meet Danny from . . ." She continued to chat on about the boy band member they ran into. Bragging rights earned from her, Terry was set for life as he listened.

"You know what?" The Asian girl suddenly said, looking into his eyes.

"What?" He leaned closer.

"I'm just happy we finally got one night alone. No interruptions, no work, no fights, nothing-"

They shared a kiss.

Moments like this made him put all doubts about their love away.

Moments where he finally saw Dana happy.

* * *

His partner got a impromptu dance lesson in salsa, not bad for someone who admittedly hate wearing heels. The music then slowed down three songs later.

"I'm surprised that you danced with me. Women have been throwing themselves at me virtually all night." Jack Walker toward Maxine Gibson.

"An ego I see?" His partner teased.

"What you can ego, I call confidence."

"Really?" She let him dip her, "Then I call myself an "ego-crusher.'"

He laughed heartily as he pulled her back up, then pulled her closer.

"Humor. I love it! That means we can have real conversation."

They conversed about various things: Why they were at the party, pastimes, funny observations about the rich and snobbish.

The focus then found itself on romance and such things (well, it was Valentine's).

"I fear your boyfriend will kill me. I have taken his date away for the whole night."

"Actually, I'm single."

"Really?" Jack was interested.

"Guys aren't my cup of tea right now. I need to worry about school."

"Ah." Then his brows danced, "You won't put me in jail will you now, my lady?"

"I'm not that kinky."

"Ha!" His arm draped around her waist as he laughed again, "Who is this gorgeous creature dancing with me? Such wit!"

"I'm just a girl who was ditched by her friends."

"And to think that someone would ditch you. I'm shocked. The very thought wounds me."

Their eyes met for an intense instant.

"Any man who can't see it should be shot on sight. You're stunning Maxine."

Without realizing it, Max laid her head on his shoulder, wordlessly, for the rest of the dance.

Yet, she fought hard not to imagine another hand resting on the small of her back.

* * *

When she opened her eyes finally, they caught sight of a familar person rushing off by the dance floor in an elegant three-piece suit.

"Terry?"

"My dear?" Jack asked her suddenly, lips near her ear. "What is it?"

Her thoughts were jarred suddenly, her head popped up. She felt bad vibes following behind the boy.

"Can you excuse me for a sec?"

"Something wrong?" His eyes flashed concern.

"I-I-I gotta go." Max cursed to herself. She didn't want to go but her friend needed her. Without another word, she kissed Jack on the cheek.

She forced herself to break the spell Jack Walker weaved around her to run (if shuffling along in heels could be called running) after Terry.


	9. Black and Blue and Maybe Some Red

Chapter VIII: _Black and Blue and Maybe Some Red_

The angry teen rushed through the restaurant until her heard his name being called.

"Max?" He stopped, handing lingering above the door handle to his exit out of Hanging Gardens.

Out of breath, she caught up to him."Why are you leaving? Aren't you here with Dana? I saw you rushing off."

Terry's eyes fell to the floor as he sighed. "Let's just tonight I'm walking."

* * *

"So wait, Dana blew up at you for talking to the waitress."

"No, she blew up at me for not noticing that the waitress was flirting with me."

The two were walking toward uptown were they lived. His pride kept him from calling Wayne then so he figured as soon as they got close enough to the Cheesy Dan's, he'll call then.

"What? You couldn't control that."

"Actually, I could have asked for another server."

She remembered how excited they both were about going--him about treating his girl finally to a nice place problem-free, she about just being with Terry for the whole night.

"But you didn't response back."

"Psft. Not even, that would've been low."

"So the waitress was flirting, talk alone can't convict you."

"She also wrote her number on my palm in pink lipstick."

"Oh." Then she added, "I'm sorry."

"Tell me about it." The boy ran tense fingers through his hair.

"I didn't even like that girl. I don't even know that girl! And not on Valentine's Day!"

Three blocks lately after Terry blew off stream, ranted, raved until he really notice that he ran into his friend at Hanging Gardens.

"I didn't get to ask why you're wearing a dress."

"Oh, this?" She looked down at the borrowed gown, a former prom dress for her big sister.

"I was invited to a party there but the girls ditched me."

"Chelsea and Blade?" She nodded. "Ah."

It took her another two blocks to go through what lead up to her being at the party and what happened after she was ditched (heavily edited).

"At least one member of the male species was lucky."

That bought a grin to her face, "He was . . .okay. We danced some, talked mostly."

"Well, glad to know you weren't alone."

"He said I was stunning." He could see her cover her mouth to fight a giggle.

She noticed Terry's eyes roll. "What? Nobody ever says I'm stunning."

He was about to correct that when a long black limo pulled up to them slowly.

"So she came back . . . " Max looked at him hopefully.

But when the window rolled down, it was a male's face that meet them.

"Or not." He answered, he hid his crestfallen face behind a wry smile.

"I'm sorry, I had to see you again Maxine!" Someone called out.

"Jack!" Max exclaimed, turning around. Her dance partner stepped out of the limo, now wearing a long jacket over his suit.

"What are you doing here?"

"Call me a fool but I couldn't stand another moment without you delightful presence . . . ." Jack stopped himseldf when he saw the dark-haired youth next to her. "I guess I found you and company." He raised a brow.

"Terry? He's my friend and we're walking home." Max explained. Jack smiled.

"Oh good, a friend. Well, your friend won't mind if I give you a ride home, taking about maybe seeing you for dinner soon-" Jack reached for her hand.

"Actually, I do mind." Terry suddenly appeared, taking his hand instead.

"Terry!" Terry ignored the glare burning into his skull.

"Don't I know you?" His eyes narrowed. The older man answered in his debonair cool.

"You may, I have been well know in many circles."

"Royal Flush!" It clicked to Terry, and the words meant only one thing: Thief.

"What?" She cried looking between them.

"I beg your pardon." The cool was shaken some from Jack.

"Yeah, I do know you." The younger man sneered, "Jack Walker, as in Jack Walker of the Royal Flush Gang."

"What are you talking about?" Max demanded.

"Max, the guy's a criminal!" Then launched into a brief history of Jack's sordid one.

"I take offense to that!" The man cut Terry off, shaking his fist.

Her glance fell on Jack in shock then on Terry questioning. _'Terry wouldn't lie about something like this.'_ Max folded her arms, "Is this true?"

He fought hard not to curse, someone who knew of his past and now he would have to come clean. He did his time and came clean of that life. Why couldn't his past rest?

"I can explain this misunderstanding. Maybe back at the Gardens, my place . . . ."

After the words 'my place' someone got into someone's else face, words were exchanged.

And before Max could even get in another word or between them, a cop was standing between the men with the Dark Knight holding his eye and the former Flush member nursing a bloody nose.

* * *

Ace and his master were siting expecting the younger Bat show, from the terse cell call Terry understood that news traveled fast on the police scanner and he better get back to the cave now. "Can you please give me a good reason why you getting into street brawls with businessmen-"

The Dark Knight returned to the manor with his pink-haired friend following behind him.

"Why is Maxine here?"

Terry answered, "Let's just say she's a popular person to visit."

Then Wayne saw the bag of ice he held over his right eye, a twinge of concern came in. "'What happen to your eye?"

"Terry, I'm sorry." She continued to plead but he held up his free hand to stop his protest.

"No, no. Don't apologize. That's what we cavemen are here for. To get black eyes from ex-cons and grape juice thrown in their face by jealous girlfriends."

Wayne eyed both of them."Would one of you like to give me an explanation?"

"Some weird stuff's been going on later." Max started then his protégée cut him off.

"I don't know what personal ad's you placed in the paper to attract every one of the city's ex-villains toward your way, but I really starting not to appreciate it."

"I-I just couldn't believe that he was a thief. He seemed so-so presentable."

"Just like you couldn't believe Carter Wilson tonguing you, ok oh. . . ."

"Wilson's a dreg. That's different!"

"Oh you like your men to be cultured convicts."

"I can give you the other black eye!"

"Terry! Maxine!"

Wayne silenced them, the childish antics annoyed him (but in strange way amused him off his rocker). "Cut the nonsense and start talking. This sounds–despite how silly you two sound–serious."

Terry held up his free hand again: "Can I just in my own defense that I've been yelled at, beat up, and humiliated all week."

Wayne shook his head, 'Guess I should get comfortable for this one.'

* * *

"I'm sorry to hear what happen to you Maxine, it could have been more tragic."

She nodded, holding herself in a tight hug.

"But I must admit, Terry has a point: The man you were dancing with belongs to a very old crime family. I've been keeping track of Jack and his sister Melanie, they've been laying low. Out of the crime business–maybe not the scheming parts, but they've been good citizens.

He added quickly afterwards, "So far."

"Guess dinner would have been a bad idea."

Wayne caught the self-blame she had for herself, feeling some sympathy for her nativity in all of this. Terry didn't and replaced the ice bag over his eye to prevent another argument.

The former Bat continue, directing his words more toward the boy.

"The fight was a bit unnecessary but he won't press charges. They can't hold Jack on anything other than getting in a fight over a woman. They let him go. He doesn't want to deal with the cops if he's been clean and you don't want to deal with juvie so you two reached an understanding of sorts. But given what Carter did, concern for your safety wasn't so wrong on his part. I just wish I would have heard some of this as soon as it happened."

Max won herself a pointed look from Terry's good eye.

"Even if Terry couldn't control his temper."

Terry won his own pointed stare from her. Wayne felt his own eyes roll.

"Well, we need to figure out if this happening for a reason bigger than chance."

"So what now?"

"We could question Carter and Jack for motive. Carter's out on bail, Jack is most likely back at his place laying low. But I hardly doubt that either is criminal."

"What do you mean?"

"I pulled up the report they had on Wilson. He's been detoxing in Gotham General."

"Detox?" Both of them said, eyes widing.

"Some new street drug the doctor thinks."

"So he's a druggie. Maybe looking for money at Max's place." The boy threw out.

Wayne frowned. "No, he has money. If he wanted drugs, he could would buy them without trouble."

"Then . . . ." Her word hung in the air.

"It still doesn't make sense." Terry admitted.

"What kind of drug was it, just out of curiosity." She asked, seeking some connection.

"Mood altering, some mind drug . . . . Unless you're the drug."

"Me!" The black girl cried, her paler friend raised a brow.

"I'm trying to put two and two together. His statement for being in your place was a bit . . . unusual. He just said he remember being drawn to you like a drug. The police can only attributed it to the drug use or he's stalking you."

She threw her arms up in frustration."Great, first he wanted to kill me, now he wants to stalk me."

"To make it even more puzzling, he doesn't remember anything."

"He doesn't?" Terry asked skeptically, then dismissed it. "Now that's bull."

"Well, he remember being there but not why he was there."

"Ok, this is getting ridiculous! And what does this have to do with Jack Walker?" She jumped to her feet.

"Well." Bruce Wayne started typing hurried on the keys, a long pause followed as he read.

"Now that I'm reading the report the cop gave on him, he tested positive for the same drug. He also doesn't have much a memory other than Maxine–nothing about the fight or being at Hanging Gardens. I think the police would like to talk to you soon."

Max sat back down.

"So drug-induced sickos I had to fight in the past suddenly start stalking my best friend? And they don't remember anything they've done?"

"That sums it." Bruce leaned forward in the chair, facing them.

As if on cue, Ace walked over to Max, laying his head on her lap.

"Does anything else make sense in this story?" The Bat asked his mentor.

"Back to Carter, it looks like the drug was forced into his system. The police don't know what to make of it. I say mind control. Someone else is pulling the strings behind this."

A very tiny voice came from the lady in the room, "Should I just go into hiding?"

Ace sensed her fear and began whimpering.

"We still don't have motive or even a good reason." Terry emphasized, watching her scratch the Great Dane's ears to keep her mind off the bizarre enormity of the situation. The dog grew quiet.

"What we have is a very large and, may I add, very twisted puzzle." Wayne declared.

The three shared worried looks, whatever was brewing didn't smell good.

"And soon, we're going to have to start putting it together." Wayne answered their thoughts.


	10. In the Grand Scheme of Things

Chapter IX: _In the Grand Scheme of Things_

The next night in the cave Batman was called to see something on Wayne's large commputer screen.

"What's this?"

"A name."

"Angel Proctor? Isn't she a tv host or something? Has a perfume line?"

"The one. Here's her address on the screen. Check it out, it's something fishy I ran across while looking at the bank accounts of some of Gotham's rich and famous. There may be an embezzlement scheme going on somewhere and her checking account may be invloved."

"She a victim?"

"That's what you get to find out. She could just be the unlucky dupe whose being used or the grand schemer in all of this. Barbara asked me check out for her, she's busy with gang wars."

"She got anything to do with our puzzle?" came to the boy as an afterthought.

Wayne looked at the Bat. "For the sake of my sanity, I hope not."

* * *

"So can we go?" A young blonde teenager sighed to her boss.

"No, we still need her!"

"Angel baby, give it a break. We don't even know who she is." A brunette girl answered.

Angel Proctor eyed her "associates" Lisa and Kelli.

The trio were discussing plans the Monday night following the holiday weekend in Angel's spacious condo between uptown and downtown where she worked in the den. The girls played a round of pool as they endured Angel's raving.

"A black girl with pink hair isn't as hard to miss." Angel added.

"So we what? Go looking for her? Make posters?" Lisa brushed a flaxen strand away.

"I have street sources. This set of Jokers can find her better than I can. From what I heard, she's been one of their targets before." The vid host smiled, happy with herself.

"Whatever, I say it's stupid." Kelli shot the solid into the hole. "The last set lost her."

"We have a better chance of doing it, you lose money every time you have pay them even if they're empty handed."

Lisa said then cursed low, Kelli had the upper hand her in billiards.

Angel Proctor was a woman of control: Losing control met she would lose her head.

The psych. grad of Gotham U. had found her niche in a on-air vid talk show about love–giving advice, consoling the broken-hearted. She was the "Dear Abby" of the future with a better hair color. . . .

But her charisma and double D chest were only taking her so far.

Her business ventures with the marketing of the perfume and bath products left her in debt.

Her show, still popular in the eyes of many, was failing. The network gracious gave her one more season before they would yank the plug. WTIL's shareholders were along the old money crowd who didn't know how people worked, she thought, they couldn't recognize serving to the masses' stupidity and smut was their cash cow.

So Angel's plan came out of necessity and old fashion greed.

Her answer: Steal. Robbing the wealthy would fix her problems, even exact a little revenge.

Her plan was golden.

But like every villain, she had dumb lackeys to contend with.

"Angel. Look, we've . . ." Lisa tried to reason but got cut off.

"Haven't done anything! If you two would have watched what you were doing in the first place, I wouldn't be so hot to find this girl. Besides, you two dropped the ball on both of our previous targets."

They dropped the ball on Wilson by him being in the same mall the pink haired was in that faithful day she insured Angel and again with Walker at the party. How could the same girl be in two places twice?

The vid host brushed a stray hair out of the way. "I'm going to get my beauty rest. We still have perfume to push and an evil plot to pull off."

She burn her icy hazel stare into both of them.

"Find the pink hair."

The door's slam announced how joyous she was feeling.

* * *

"Yes ma'am." Lisa answered, then out of ear shot mumbled under her voice, filing her nails.

"Overbearing witch."

Lisa scratched the eight ball, allowing Kelli the chance for the winning shot.

"We could be knocking over banks for all this work."

"That little pill we slip them makes guys do anything we say for as long as we want them to. If we can just focus, we can get this to work." Kelli pointed her stick Lisa.

"Didn't you let the Wilson kid go when we were working the mall." Lisa added meanly.

"I saw a vintage Gap sale! I couldn't miss that!" Kelli cried, then added pointedly. "Besides, if you weren't flirting with some kid on his date-"

"I was trying to work all the loaded guys in the room. He had a private room, private! And his own credit card, he's working for one of those really big conglomerates like Wayne-Blight Enterprises."

Lisa watched Kelli land the eight ball. Cursing, Lisa grudgingly handed her partner a twenty, then spoke. "He didn't look like a kid anways, he was cute."

The two girls looked more like high school cheerleaders than common crooks, yet had enough street smarts to con their way into favor. The hired help worked at the mall but stumbled on the Luv Doctor's little plan a month back. This mistake became their "opening" for some cash flow.

"What does that have to do with the pink hair?"

"They fell for her. That's why Ang's so ticked. We didn't let the drug work right, they were suppose to fall for us but we didn't say in their line of sight long enough."

"So how we gonna find her?"

"Are you just that ditzy?" Kelli smacked Lisa in her head.

"The Jokers tell us where she's at then we get her."

"Oh."

Lisa rubbed the back her head, forcing herself to stay calm.

"Either way, we get ours. The Luv Doctor gonna pay us or she'll get pay back. We'll be so friggin' paid, the girls down at juvie wouldn't know what to do . . . ."

"You just make sure you don't go sleep tonight." Lisa bared her fist at Kelli.

"Oh really-" The brunette's smug words were cut off by a masked figure.

"Where's Angel Proctor?"

"What the–" The brunette dropped her stick.

The figure started walking closer. "You heard me, where is Angel Proctor?"

"Somewhere." Her blonde cohort answered smartly.

"Funny." It sneered, "Just as funny as ripping off the rich."

The blonde cursed softly, "He knows!"

"Quiet stupid!" The smart mouth yelled back.

"Oh, so you do know something about it. I guess it does pay to easesdrop. Maybe we all should talk a nice walk to the police station and then we all can know more." It commented.

"Or not–!"

Within an eye's blink, Kelli came at Batman with a pool stick flying at his head.

"Slaggit!" Batman hissed, ducking the quick swings with a matching lighting speed.

"I don't want to hurt you. . ."

"Then you don't want to fight-hah!" She swung again, connecting with his back.

He went down hard, swearing.

"Lisa, could you jump in here!"

Her friend started backing out of the room.

"Nawww, you got it Kel, I gotta grab Ang anways. Cya when your done playing!"

"Stupid! Come back!"

Batman was on his feet again. The girl broke another pool stick over her thigh.

"Alright, I'll handle you alone."

"Sure you're not going to beat with up with you pom-poms?" He mocked.

His choice of words lead the two into a furious round of swings and kicks, ducking and dodging.

Vases broke, glass shattered, body parts felt blows.

He couldn't guess she knew how to fight but she did well to knock him down a few good times.

While hitting women wasn't his style, defense moves flew out of the window the minute the stick nearly connected with the crotch.

"Oops." Kelli taunted. "Missed."

Now the Bat was ticked.

"I don't fight girls." He growled. She swung high when his arm deflected the blow. "But you're not being a lady." The Bat gave a low kick, knocking her down. She crashed into the coffee table and cracked it in two. The one called Kelli suddenly yelped in pain.

"You broke my nail."

With a loud, savage cry the first girl flew at him, beating him repeatedly. Striking at his head, his legs, any part of him. Batman grabbed her by the wrists, weary of the game.

"Let me go and I'll think about sparing you!"

He began to bend her arms backwards, "this kinda brings 'twisting your arm' closer to home."

"Ah! Cut it out you dreg!"

"Not until you tell me what you know about Proctor's bank account."

"I don't know nothing!"

Batman pinned her down into the carpet, sitting on her legs.

"I seem to recall you saying something about being paid. Now, whose getting paid-Angel Proctor or you two? Whose double crossing who?" Something on the table caught his eye.

He tied the girls hands behind her back with a bolas before getting up.

The Bat quickly began leafing through the pile. Names of prominent businessmen and (only male) millionaires were popping up on the papers along with large amount of money being transferred or being signed over to a single bank account. One belonging to a certain vid-tv personality at WTIL.

He slipped two of the statements plus a darker piece of paper in his pockets.

"Bank statements huh? You didn't tell me how good you were with other's people's money–huh?"

Another paper stood out in his view, similar to the darker one. He started reading.

"Animal Farms Fertility . . .?"

Batman didn't get to finish his words when a wooden card chair came crashing across his back from a certain blonde. . . .

* * *

"You two are starting to become the biggest thorns in my side."

The Luv Doctor growled from the driver's seat of her black SUV. The girls were in the back, being tossed around by the doctor's frantic getaway driving. The three escaped with some of the evidence.

"Angel, I didn't spill!" Kelli screamed. "I swear!"

"Kel wouldn't do that to 'ya, Ang. We're in this together." Lisa defended her in a surprise move.

They had their differences, but friendship held priority over their boss. Angel only sneered.

"First off, get rid of the statements." She ordered. "Like you should have two weeks ago."

The two girls began to tear apart the statements, burning the pieces.

The vid host grinded her teeth, "We got to move ASAP. If Batboy knows something, then that means that the cops could too. So we better get this going."

She pulled out her cell phone.

"Change of plans. We're getting the pink hair tonight, take her out, and get out of town. We have enough money to sustain us and enough materials to make a new batch of the pills. I'll just make sure it's known that our kiosk 'suddenly' went out of business."

She began to dial numbers then indicated to the black clothing in the back.

"I suggest you two ladies get ready to visit our old friend. I have Jokerz to call."

* * *

Bruce Wayne wrapped Terry's back in thick white cloth. "How do you feel?"

The boy sat there, without a cowl, stripped of his top.

"Embarrassed."

He fought his urge of smirk. "You had a hard week."

"Would the world just be a better place without women?"

Bruce hid his smile as he continued to patch up his employee. Terry suddenly reached into his costume's pocket. "Oh here, she knows something. And they may be the pieces in our puzzle."

Batman handed his employer piece of papers. Wayne read over the bank statements for a length then raised an eyebrow at the last, darker paper. "A bill?"

"From a chemical company that specializes in animal fertility."

"How did you know that?"

"Let's just say I beat up a girl to find this information."

His boss leaned in closer to hear the rest of Terry's theory.


	11. Queen of Hearts

Chapter X: _Queen of Hearts_

"So you think that Proctor is mixed up in our puzzle?" Bruce finally asked.

Terry took a slip of water with his pain killers.

"I think she made the puzzle: Animal fertility company. Bank statements from rich guys putting money in her account. The ninja cheerleaders."

"I noticed that Walker and Wilson's names were written in one of these somewhere as 'next.'"

"I think they were the targets. Both of them are rich, even saw a few familiar names of guys with money like yours. No women."

"Ah."

Wayne sat back down, Ace laid near his feet, the fact that he was a potential target didn't strike him as hard, but curiously.

"Now I think I see. If I was on the list, then that means they were targeting men with money. They're using a very sophisticated way to steal money from the wealthy."

"I still don't know how it all works but Proctor has to be deep in this."

Terry then hit his fist into his hand. "But this still doesn't place Max in the puzzle anywhere."

Bruce leaned back in thought. "And that's the part that still means trouble for us."

* * *

_A perfect symmetrical garden laid before her eyes, the bushes designed like a large chess board, clumped together in alternating squares of black and red flowers._

_The scenery began to soak in–the tall roses brushes, the beaten paths in between, birds singing happy melodies. There was a castle in the background. A fountain marked the center of the place she was in, splashes of cool water dropping on her face._

_Pulling herself up, the woman looked into the fountain:_

_A cascade of pink hair fell around her shoulders. A floor length princess gown of creamy silk adorned her tall frame with blood-red roses streaming her hair. Dirt kisses her toes._

_The pearl necklace wink light back at her._

"Where am I?"

_A rush of air went by. Someone pass by._

"Who was that?"

_Leaves rustled around a bush behind her. Footsteps crunched in the dirt._

"Hello? Hello! Someone!"

_She had never been so grateful to be barefooted, running through the neat green rows, calling out to the unseen figure._ "Where am I? Who's there?"

_More steps. Birds flew over head excited._

_A man in medieval clothing sat on the edge of the fountain. His smooth goatee and scheming eyes regarding her. Standing up placed him a inches above her, she felt his hand slip into hers._

"Who-who are you?"

"A Jack milady. A Jack of all trades, skilled in all things-"

_He kissed her hand delicately, then held both her hands looking deep into her eyes. _

"Run away with me, disappear with me, my Queen of Hearts."

"You won't be leaving with her." _A new voice warned with venom in the tone._

"So your Knight has come for you eh?" _He said to her then yelled to the air_, "Show yourself!"

"Rogue!" _The dark-haired Knight appeared into view from the mist._

"Unhand her!" His sword caught the Jack near his throat.

_Within an eye's blink, the Jack grabbed her by the waist, a dagger pressed under her chin._

"The Lady made her choice." _The Jack hisses to the Knight_. "Harm comes to her life if you hurt me."

"And you think you are that?" _Another sword was drawn from behind the two men._

"Jester!" _The Knight spat the name out turning, the Jack simply sneered._

_A brown haired man with blue eyes appeared in a harlequin's garb_. "I prefer Joker."

_The Joker stepped closer, eying the woman like meat. _"My love, how do we get ourselves in these situations?"

"She's mine." _The Jack gripped her waist tight, pressing her closer to him. He stepped back a few paces, taking the girl with him. _

"I'll spare you both if you leave her be." The Knight warned with his stormy eyes.

_Tension clung like drew in the air when a woman dressed in a dark gown walked toward them–floating almost in her long gown, red hair flowing in the wind._

"The game is mine to control."

_A specter pointed at the girl:_ "Your little Queen has been checkmated."

* * *

When Max woke up, she was still in her apartment still in her baggy t-shirt and gym shorts.

She ran fingers through her pink lemon-colored locks. "What was that about?"

A persistent ring from her vid-phone caught her attention. Her hands groped for the headset in the dark before her hand rested on it. She managed to answer after the fourth ring. Maybe it was the undercover cop Mr. Wayne posted in front of her place (to watch for any abnormal activity) checking up on her.

"Hello?" Her voice felt groggy.

"Sorry if I woke you up."

"Terry?" She perked up, "What's up?"

"My bruised backside."

"What?" She flipped the light on. "How?"

"Angel Proctor's apartment."

"The woman who hosts the' Luv Doctor'? The one selling that-that perfume?"

"She's just not selling perfume. She's either embezzling large amounts of money or her sales lackeys are. I just got my butt kicked by a bunch of girls for finding that out."

The Bat recapped his night with her over the secure line after Bruce finished wrapping his back up in bandages. He left the part out about the bill for the chemical company, he didn't want her to be worried.

At least not yet.

"I would've have come over but I know you needed your medical skills in biology tomorrow. "

"Thanks." She felt herself smile. "I . . . "

She wanted to related her dream to him but decided against it.

"Yeah?" He asked in the silence.

"I mean . . . It's so-so weird but so dangerous at the same time."

Her voice got very small. "Terry, I'm scared."

A pause over the phone made her wonder if he was still listening.

"I promise you, we'll get to the bottom of this." She heard his tone get brighter over the line.

"Smile. Things will be ok."

"Yeah, I hope so . . ." The line went dead.

"Terry? Terry? Answer me-!"

Max heard her voice trail off when she saw three shadows moving toward her in the bedroom. The headset fell from her hands.

"Tell your boyfriend to call you back." A brunette taunted.

"You won't be seeing him again." A blonde joined in with her.

A red hair woman pointed at the pink haired girl. "You've just been checkmated."

* * *

"Max?"

His heart beat a little faster.

"Max?" Now the panic truly began to seep through.

Terry yelled into the phone, "Max!"

He slammed the reciever down back on the hook.

Hurry clicks from a cane indicated that Bruce Wayne was coming back into the cave.

"Is there something wrong with your secure line here-?"

"How does your back feel?" The sudden question threw Terry off.

"Better." He ventured, then his eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Because you better get to Maxine's place right now. The undercover's not responding."

His blue orbs lingered with Bruce's own before he ran to grab his suit.


	12. Checkmate

Chapter XI: (The Exciting Conclusion) _Checkmate_

A sudden whine from Ace got his master attention.

A shrill beeping alerting Bruce Wayne, an incoming call appeared on his vid screen as urgent.

"Maxine?" The former Bat took the incoming call quickly. "Maxine, where are you?"

"Running." She panted over the line, taking deep breathes, "They're after me."

"Whose after you?" He tried to pull up her location while listening to her.

"Crazy . . . woman . . . red hair . . . two girls . . . pink lipsticks."

Wayne sunk into his chair, the pieces fitting in quite nicely.

"Angel Proctor." He quickly keyed in some figures, then started talking to the sudden track star.

"Maxine, try to hide somewhere. I can send a squad car to get you-"

A new voice with a venomous tone interrupted him.

"Sorry, sweetheart, the Nextel customer will be out of order very shortly."

A scream echoed the cave, a cracking sound, then the line fell silent.

"Maxine? Maxine!" He cried into the microphone.

Then the screen went black.

Wayne uttered a curse word as started typing furiously again.

"Terry." Static meet his ears. "Terry, come in."

Several seconds passed before the new Bat picked up.

"Yeah, I'm here." Bruce Wayne could see Terry's night vision scanning a pastel-colored bedroom with overturned furniture and a door gapping open.

"The undercover's okay, just a little dazed but she's not in the apartment."

"She just called."

"She called?" Disbelief caked the voice on the other end.

"Yeah, she was running from what it sounded like but her captor got to her."

"Could you track her?"

A blinking red dot appeared on a map on the computer screen.

"Yes, and I'm getting Old Town."

"Old Town? What she's doing there?"

"I don't think the seedy denizens of Gothman crime really like taking their victims to the suburbs."

After some seconds of silence, he heard his employee turning the jet around. "I'm on it."

* * *

"Feisty eh?" The doctor sneered as the two girls loaded a struggling Max into the truck.

"You won't get-" She tried to protest but a bright piece of pink masking tape was slapped over her mouth.

"That's the second nail I broke." Kelli griped, slamming the door shut.

"Lisa, get us to the Old Town, the Heartz Factory." Angel Proctor ordered to her driver.

"Heartz Factory?" The blonde stared, "Ang, if you wanted a candy bar, we can stop at mini mart."

"We are going to GET RID of HER there." The doctor shook her first at the girl.

"Just drive." Kelli jumped in the backseat with their victim.

"Please tell me that it's just the blonde chemical in her hair making her sound so dumb. " The pyschologist demanded, angry color on her face matching her pants suit.

"No, she's natural." Kelli answered, promptly smacking her skull. "Naturally stupid."

"Hey! The next person who slaps me won't have a hand!" Lisa cried, the SUV peeled out into the foggy night.

* * *

The Heartz Sweets Factory did not look like the happy little candy factory Max imagined every time she ate Raisinettes. It looked very menacing in the death of midnight with its dusty machinery and very sharp knives. Rats bigger than her Isis ran across the floor, roaches scattered at the sudden light.

"Couldn't we have just gone to the boondocks?" The brunette whined.

"We do you think most people knock off their marks?" Her blonde huffed. "Disneyland?"

"Take the tape off of her mouth and shut up." Their leader stepped in. "I want to taunt her."

As soon as she felt her skin peel off from the tape being pulled, Max started questioning, "What do you want from me?"

Dr. Proctor feigned mock surprise. "What do I want from you?"

Angel Proctor asked in a sarcastic tone, then laughed.

The Luv Doctor snapped her fingers to the brunette. "Lisa, go load the money in the truck, it's by the bubble gum. Kelli, get the chocolate boiler ready. I wonder how she'll taste in a pretzel."

When the doctor and the victim were alone, the doctor continued.

"See, somehow you managed to get in the way of my plans. I was happily ripping the rich and famous off with my little pink pill, one that would eventually be used in my perfume . . ."

She pulled one out of her pocket to show it to her prey.

"It's a fun mixture of mind control-mind altering drugs, steroids, and animal phenomes. This fun combo produces the false sense of love in the poor soul who takes it and happens to lay eyes on the first person they see. That and it blanks your memory."

A blunt edge of a cutting machine caught her eye. While her captor went on raving with her scheme, the girl started rubbing the ropes on the sharp end, hoping the dark was masking her movements.

"Yet somehow, you managed to get in the line of sight of my covetous targets: The owner of WTIL's son and the CEO of adverting in this city's biggest finance company."

"Carter and Jack?" The girl whispered, _'so that explained the behavior . . . .'_

"And they fell for you." She turned her back to look around then faced her victim again.

"I will admit it threw a roadblock in the plan but I managed to alter some of the affects so that they'll listen to me. Oh, by the way, they're in the next room. I figure after they give me their bank accounts and trust fund info, then they can watch you go bye-bye."

"Lady, you're sick!" The girl snapped her shock to start freeing herself.

"Only sick enough to make this work. I'll be in Cancun while you get packaged into a lovely treat."

"I don't even know you!" Max protested.

"Oh yes, you do." The woman stood in front of the girl, "Next time, watch the smart little comments you make to perfect strangers at the mall. Especially me and my salesgirls."

The black girl gasped, briefly stopping her escape plan as the ropes fell loose.

"The Luv Doctor."

She stopped in front of Max's face to smiled deadly then backed away. "Guilty."

Max rushed untying the ropes behind her back.

"So what I want from you is stay out of my way."

The two minions reappeared in the large room.

"Girls!"

"Ready boss." Lisa came back, "Money loaded."

"The broiler's cooking." Kelli smiled. "All we have to do is thrown her in."

"And now, I'm going to make a way for you to be out of it . . .permanently."

A quick assessment of the situation had only one word written on it: Screwed.

She kept unknotting her wrists. The pink-haired girl looked at the three women circling her. The red hair was blocking the door, the blonde and brunette were closing in to her . . . .

A broom! Somehow the ordinary cleaning tool again became the weapon of choice.

"Why don't you come quietly . . . ." The blonde taunted.

"We won't hurt you-much." The brunette mocked, they had her concerned.

"Yeah . . ." She felt her fingers wrap around it, "but you didn't count on what I'll do to you."

With all the force in her body, Max jumped up, grabbed the broom, then slammed the broom handle into her assailants, knocking the wind out both of them.

"What the-?" The red head gapped when a box of JuJu beans smashed into her temple.

Max took off through the factory.

* * *

Batman began searching the empty candy factory for signs of life when he radioed Wayne back.

"I don't hear anything-"

The clicking of heels alerting his attention. Moments later there was Max, gym shorts and all being followed by the two girls from the other night donned in all black jumpsuits running in tennis heels.

He switched the radio off and the invisible shield back on. "Nevermind."

The Bat swooped down and knocked the ladies down. He made himself visible.

"Max!" He hissed in the dark to get her attention.

She caught sight of the Bat. "You're timing is impeccable as always." She got out between breathes when she caught up with him.

"SWM, on time and reliable." He joked then turned seriously. "We've got to get out of here-"

The Bat felt two arms lift him off the ground and throw him into a slack of boxes.

Max only could gasp.

"I suggest you remove your hands from the lady." Jack Walker growled like a wild animal.

"Hands off, Bat." Carter Wilson followed behind him, the same wild look in his eye.

"I don't think the antidote worked." Lisa looked to her friend.

"Well-good!" Kelli yelled, "They'll kick his butt instead of ours for messing with the pink hair."

The imposing figures of Jack Walker and Carter Wilson were walking toward the Bat.

A idea came to Max in a flash, she jumped into front of Bat as he laid in the boxes.

"Stop!"

To her delight, the two men stopped to look at her, staring starry-eyed.

"Get them!" Angel Proctor screamed at the men, appearing behind them. "Don't just stand there!"

The men would not obey so she yelled to the girls, the doctor roared.

"Girls! Attack them! Now!"

"You are ready making me mad, pinky." Lisa grabbed a random steel rod off the ground.

Kelli balled her fist up tight. "And my manicure is going to cost me double!"

The blonde and brunette launched after the two dark figures.

What no one counted on was the men knocking the two girls into the middle of next week.

"NOOOOOOO!" Angel Proctor pulled her hair, Kelli and Lisa landed in a stack of caramel boxes.

"Don't attack the girls! Get THEM!"

While the doctor threw a hissy fit, Max ran to the Bat's side. "Are you ok?"

"I see both of your dates decided to show." The Bat spoke between gasps, then grabbed Max by the waist. "Ok, this round of Love Connection is over."

The plan should have been simply: Grab the fair damsel by the waist and jet out into the sunset.

He didn't count on the bad guys being able to keep up with them on the long staircase.

"What the heck did she give them?" He asked when they finally reached the roof.

"A mixture of steroids, mind altering drugs, and animal phenomes." His friend add casually.

The Bat stared at her briefly as the baddies gathered on the roof them.

"Thanks for being so informative."

* * *

The roof provided no outlet. They scrambled for a plan to get out of dodge.

"Guess we'll have to jump." Batman remarked, looking over the edge.

"What!?!" She glanced over the edge to see nothing but the water below them.

"It's three storiessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!"

Her voice echoed as Terry took her with him over the side, falling into the murky waters of the bay . . . .

* * *

When the two came up for air, a police helicopter had its spotlight on the roof top.

"Freeze! Gotham City Police! You're under arrest." Soon the roof was stormed by Gotham's finest.

The Luv Doctor and her girls had no choice but to surrender as the two men fell stood there in a daze.

The scene could have been romantic movie scene, damsel and hero together in the end:

Max threw her arms around Terry's neck, hugging herself close to him for warmth. The icy waters chilled her deeply. Her hair and clothes stuck to her skin while the Bat remained relatively dry under his uniform. He in turned involuntarily had his arms around her waist, inhaling the mix of strawberry shampoo and rank sea water in her pink tresses.

They closed their eyes for whatever reason and enjoyed the feeling of relief that washed over them.

They sighed.

She suddenly broke the silence, calling his name dreamily, "Terry?"

"Yeah?"

He answered back, eyes still closed, dreaming himself.

"I never want to hear you complain that you've had a rough week again."

Terry choose to say nothing, swimming to the docks with her with a smile behind the cowl.


	13. All the Cards on the Table

Chapter XII: _All the Cards on the Table_

While her house was being sealed off for evidence, Max spent another week at the McGinnis residence.

Mary McGinnis happily took her in, sighting how bad the neighborhood was if she wasnearly assaulted twice within the same month.

A phone call from her parents was her biggest surprise: They were flying home within the next twenty-four hours.

The media was all over the news of the antics of the famed Angel Proctor and her hired cheerleaders, Mr. Wayne had the connections to keep her out of the frenzy, they could referred to her as the "victim" and her identity remained a secret only known to the Bats, the detectives, and the judge.

Max hugged the pillow to herself.

She didn't feel like a victim–more like a strange player in a even stranger game of chess or cards.

But she knew for sure as her name was Maxine Gibson, she did NOT want to relive the last month.

March came as a breathe of fresh air when the media finally let the case go.

The rumors at school didn't reveal anything other than "somewhere near Max Gibson's place."

She was delighted to find that connections kept such a tight lid on the story.

Jack Walker and Carter Wilson themselves made sure their own connections kept them as much out of the media's hunger for a story that somehow.

She had gotten a call from Jack one day that week from a secure line at his company. They were apologies for whatever he did in his drugged up state.Then, before hanging up, he told her he only remembered her being good at salsa dancing and that they should do it again if she in a million years considered it.

Besides the single black rose left on her door step one morning, Max didn't hear–and didn't know if she wanted to hear–anything from Carter.

(But a part of her wanted to.)

_'What am I getting? Stockholm Syndrome or something?'_

The memory of being kissed by the former Joker still jarred her some nights–she felt a profound disgust but (for some twisted reason) wondered if she kissed him back.

She caught her face in the mirror and sighed, brushing a stray pink strand back.

"It's hard to feel pretty when guys virtually ignore you . . . except the ones who try to kill you or were thieves."

Then there was Terry.

They had spoken very little–he had to do another week on the couch–about it.

As a matter of fact, they had spoken little about anything.

He was giving her space to adjust to the real world again but he near her side every chance he got.

Now she was grateful he was just a friend. His silence in the midst of noisy confusion comforted her.

Yet since the night the spent in the icy baby, the faint scent of cologne on his pillow gave her the urge to dream about him being her Knight . . . .

* * *

Terry had gotten a phone call while watching tv. The wave of crazy media crashed over the story about the crazed vid-host using mind control drugs to rob the wealth and harass helpless students.

Dana wanted to talk. He met up with her the next day after school for a quick bite and talk.

At Cheesy Dan's, the couple had some chit-chat about their days and the Angel Proctor case until they reached the issue. Dana suddenly took Terry's hand.

"I'm sorry about blowing up at you. I didn't give you a chance to make up with me."

She had in a quiet voice, looking into his eyes beseeching.

"Max told me you went through all that trouble to make sure I had a good time and I shouldn't have blown up at you. I just got so angry that my night was ruined-"

"Dana, we can't do this." He blurted out without another thought.

She only looked at him questioning.

"Do? Do what?"

He looked away then looked back at her.

"Play this game of make-up and break-up."

"What do you mean . . .?"

He took a deep breathe.

"I think we need a break. We need space. Dana, I think . . . I think we . . . we need time apart . . ."

Her face flushed, eyes wide at him, she only sat there frozen in her shock.

"I'm sorry. But that's just how I feel."

_'So the truth is out,'_ he thought, _'I finally did it.'_

"So, so you want a break? Where did all of this come from?" Her eyes colored with hurt.

Confusion twisted up into her face, her knuckles were white. The Asian girl asked him accusingly.

"You think we should break up, don't you?"

Terry knew that their relationship was pass saving, being Batman had taken all the life from it and that was sad. He loved Dana-really, he did, but her happiness was better off in the hands of another.

He couldn't say the fatal words but his actions were yelling them out.

He didn't answer her statement with a "yes" or "no," he only gave her kiss on the cheek and walked out the pizza place leaving her alone with her anger and confusion.

* * *

Terry unlocked the apartment and let himself in.

No sounds of a vid games or pots clanging made him wander toward the kitchen.

A note was posted on the fridge waiting for him:

Matt and his mom were off to the grocery store while Max was napping in his room, leaving the two teens alone in the apartment. His feet dragged up the stairs. Talking with Dana left him drained.

He knocked on his room. Footsteps got closer and a sleepy Max opened the door slowly.

"Terry?"

He could see she just had woken up, smoothing her hair down. Her books were scattered over the bed along with the blank screen of her laptop.

"Mind if I come in?"

She shrugged, stepping aside to let him in. "It's your room."

He closed the door behind him then took a deep breath.

"Max, I think we need to talk."

"About what? Last week?" She remember Mr. Wayne offering to send her to therapy.

"Yeah . . ." He stood very close in front of her. "Sort of."

"Sure, if you think it'll help. What's on your mind?"

His hands rested on her arms as if to embrace, their eyes met.

Maxine Gibson suddenly knew whatever he was about to say had nothing to do with last week, she was swimming in that impossible sea of blue she both loved and dreaded.

His next words would hold deep changes.

Something that wasn't being done by a drug.


End file.
